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Horrortober: The Wicker Man (1973)

Sir Christopher Lee’s hair stars in The Wicker Man

When I say The Wicker Man is a cult film, there are several layers to that statement. The traditional film critic-speak definition of a cult movie is one that was not successful in its original release, but has collected a devoted group of fans over the years. Think The Rocky Horror Picture Show or Evil Dead. The 1973 British film The Wicker Man, directed by Robin Hardy and written by Anthony Shaffer, certainly qualifies under that definition. It barely even got distribution in the states beyond the drive-ins, and yet, four years after its release, it was called “the Citizen Kane of horror movies.” I wouldn’t go that far, but the restored version currently in circulation and showing on Turner Classic Movies is no doubt a cut above your average splatter fest. The film’s cult was big enough to prompt a remake in 2006 starring Nicholas Cage, but that version has been relegated to a punch line along with most of Cage’s late-period work.

Diane Cliento and Edward Woodward

The second layer to The Wicker Man’s cult movie status is that it is literally a movie about a cult. According to Wikipedia, the film had its genesis in a conversation between horror actor extraordinairre Christopher Lee and screenwriter Shaffer. Lee, who had been the star of a string of increasingly fraught horror hits from the British studio Hammer, wanted to do something a little more cerebral and serious, and proposed a story based on “old religion”. Lee would go on to play Lord Summerisle, whose estate is a remote Scottish island with a seemingly normal population of 70s rural Scots. But when police Sgt. Howie (Edward Woodward) is dispatched to the island to investigate the mysterious death of a young girl, he discovers that there are secrets bubbling beneath the islanders’ placid exterior. At first, no one seems to remember the little girl. Then, a schoolteacher Miss Rose (Diane Cliento) admits that yeah, little Rowan did exist, and yeah, she was probably murdered, but it’s not really such a big deal. In fact, it was a good thing. The islanders are part of a pagan cult surviving from pre-Christian days who have existed in secret and isolation to avoid persecution. The devoutly Christian Howie is completely scandalized by the pagan’s free sexuality and bizarre religious practices, but as the film progresses, he is too slow to realize that he is being led into a trap.

Nope. Nothing creepy going on here at all.

Lee’s performance is one of the best in a storied career that spanned into the twenty first century playing Saruman in Lord Of The Rings and Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequel trilogy. He manages to make upbeat happiness blood-chillingly creepy. Woodward, who would later go on to play The Equalizer on American television, is his perfectly uptight foil. The film follows the familiar exploitation template of “one hour of talking, thirty minutes of blowing stuff up”. But in this case, the windup is the payoff, with a series of bizarre images and scenes of the islanders’ rituals juxtaposed with everyday British life in the 1970s. Odd are you’ll get a few laughs at poor Sgt. Howie’s expense, particularly in the scene where he cowers from a beautiful naked woman who just wants to get it on with him. As it turns out, if he had just given in to her advances, things would have gone a lot better for him in the end. And that’s also true of a modern audience’s reaction to The Wicker Man. Just go with all the weirdness, and you will ultimately be rewarded with a killer climax whose imagery has filtered down through pop culture for 40 years. 

Horrortober: The Wicker Man (1973)

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The Hobbit: Battle Of The Five Armies

There’s The Hobbit that is, and The Hobbit that might have been. Let’s talk about the latter first.

Far back in the mists of time (read: the mid-1990s), Peter Jackson and his screenwriter/producer/significant other Fran Walsh wanted to do a film trilogy based on the work of
J. R. R. Tolkien. Their original plan logically started with The Hobbit and condensed the events of the three Lord of the Rings novels into the remaining two films. But getting the fantasy movies financed was an uphill battle, so they cut costs by excising the “short” prequel of The Hobbit and pitching only the two darker and more action-packed Lord of the Rings movies. But when an exec at New Line finally saw the light, he wanted three movies, all based on The Lord of the Rings. Jackson agreed and made history with his now-classic fantasy trilogy, which culminated with 2003’s Return of the King winning 11 Academy Awards.

Naturally, New Line wanted more and set about an epic quest to bring The Hobbit to the screen and thus earn another dragon’s hoard’s worth of gold. They partnered with MGM, who then promptly went bankrupt, to make two movies out of the book that established Middle Earth. Jackson, Walsh, and screenwriter Philippa Boyens were back, and they brought in Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth, Pacific Rim) to direct. The actual book Tolkien wrote is much lighter in tone than The Lord of the Rings books and is the shortest of the four volumes. But the chance to make a single, tight adaptation of The Hobbit had passed, and so Boyens and company brought in some material from Tolkien’s notes, short stories, and appendices to flesh out the story. But after years of delay, del Toro reluctantly moved on, and a recaptialized MGM demanded three movies to ensure steady cash flow as it emerged from bankruptcy. Professor Tolkien’s pastoral fantasy about dwarves who loved to sing, dragons who loved gold, and a pathologically honest hobbit burglar was now budgeted just shy of half a billion dollars.

The Battle of the Five Armies

Which brings us to The Hobbit that is. Boyens and Jackson worked from the two-movie plan they had developed with del Toro to expand the material even further and, with 2012’s The Unexpected Journey and 2013’s The Desolation of Smaug, have now crafted three financially successful films. But were they artistically successful?

The short answer is no; the long answer is yes with a but. There are shots, scenes, and whole sequences of The Battle of the Five Armies that are as riveting and beautiful as anything in Jackson’s oeuvre. When the elf Legolas (Orlando Bloom) tries to cross a bridge made from a fallen, crumbling tower while dwarven king Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage) fights the orc champion Azog at the top of a frozen waterfall, it is a virtuoso display of action movie choreography worthy of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Martin Freeman does an excellent job of holding down the trilogy’s center as Bilbo Baggins, and Armitage brings a stately, tragic air to Thorin, the penniless dwarf who risked it all to reconquer his rightful throne as King under the Mountain from the dragon Smaug, only to lose his soul in the process.

As a work of epic fantasy to be binge-watched on HD flatscreens over a weekend, The Hobbit will hold its own against Game of Thrones, provided you’re not just in it for the HBO series’ extensive nudity. But as a filmgoing experience in its own right, The Battle of the Five Armies is erratic and unsatisfying. The opening sequence, where Bard the Bowman (Luke Evans) confronts the dragon Smaug (voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch) as Laketown burns around him should be edge-of-your-seat thrilling. But even a dyed-in-the-wool fanboy like me, who first read The Hobbit when my age was still counted in single digits, had trouble working out who was who and why I should care until the old guard of Cate Blanchett’s Galadriel, Ian McKellan’s Gandalf, and Christopher Lee’s Saruman slip on their Rings of Power and mix it up with Sauron on the top of a mountain. But even that incredible scene isn’t part of Tolkien’s book, and it’s the plague of additional subplots that keeps the entire trilogy from achieving greatness. There’s a great movie buried in the almost eight hours of The Hobbit trilogy, and I’m sure Jackson, Walsh, and Boyens, know it. But as the dwarf Balin (Ken Stott) says, “Don’t underestimate the evil of gold.”